


Always Right

by 1545011



Category: d'Artagnan Romances (Three Musketeers Series) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Cheating, Cuck, Emasculation, Feet, Foot Massage, Gay, Huge Dick, Humiliation, Love, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Piss, Role Reversal, excessive cum, foot job, hyper balls, hyper cock, implied - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, size comparison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 08:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18847039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1545011/pseuds/1545011
Summary: idkd'artagnan while returning from his date with constance has a new fixation: comte de rochefort's spermhe comes looking for him anyway, and it turns out that they both have some new ideas.while being teased, he insists that he could be just as dominant, if given the chanceso, is he right?let me knwo what you thinkand please let me know what you would like to see nextany feedback appreciated





	Always Right

It was horribly mundane, to have such ideas racing through his head while he remains an innocent composure.  
Constance and D’Artagnan did resume their plans, and went on their date into the evening; But their afternoon had spent cleaning as she had brought the idea up to Rochefort. Now, the brunet had a clean mattress, walls, and floor, even a fresh and bleached new linen night shift Constance had purchased for him in a last minute dash to the market.  
After they had cleaned, the older man had left, wishing them both good luck on their date and that he would keep in touch accordingly. His voice, so deep and smooth, it calmed his soul and took the edge off of the ‘I can’t believe we had just done that!’ factor of their last encounter.  
The younger man was glad that their concern for him extended past pure eroticism and that they did care for his well-being.

Though he didn’t think that he could ever tell Rochefort the true reason that he had gotten so into the habit of pissing himself, as a result of his anxiety, fixation and arousal, and confusion following his first encounter with the older man, but it seemed that neither of them had any hint of speculation as to that being the case. Simply, they helped him clean his apartment from the smells and stains.  
Later, the tanned boy had sheepishly told this to Constance as they had went on their date.  
Two of them seated together, huddled close enough for their knees to touch as they held each other’s hands. The older blonde had wrapped a stray lock of hair behind her ears to listen more intently, as the fresh faced and tanned male in front of her looked downwards and explained the obsessive thoughts he had developed.   
He described them, and they were horrible, but he was smiling as he spoke of his fear of pissing himself, and how he realized his bladder was shrinking as he tried to empty himself frequently to reduce the risk. Eventually, he couldn’t sleep through the night without pissing all over himself soaking his night shift and mattress, and even the scent of it in passing was enough to make him start his ritual of to return to baseline; To make the tightness in his chest and the disgust go away.  
D’Artagnan sought escape from it and find privacy as soon as he could. There, his thoughts would always return to the older man and how he had pissed so forcefully on him. The liquid warm and the scent raw as it flowed over his face, his hair, dripping from his chin and the tip of his aquiline nose.   
He would think, ‘Why would he do that? What is the benefit? There was nothing for me, and why there was nothing for him to gain, either! So, what is the point of doing that?’ all the while the gascons’ dick grew tense and hard and erect as could be. These memories, his expressed disgust, all shrouded in arousal. The pattern continued, and he then described how he would masturbate upon finding his dick hardened from the memory.   
“I would try to think of you, the whole time. Because, you know I like you! A-And I do! But, it couldn’t compare at all to the thoughts of when I was with that Rochefort… tied against the sycamore to the southwest.” His voice shook, but still he could not stop smiling. Perhaps, because he had clearly witnessed her pleasure from seeing him and Rochefort, then this indulgence was alright.  
She had squeezed his hand, not offended in the least. She had heard loosely as they had walked together, about D’Artagnan’s first meeting with Rochefort where he had lost his oral virginity to him in a field. Truthfully, she was more than happy as an observer and the woman wished she could erase the shame which her D’Artagnan held coiled around himself.  
“My mind, it always returned to how he had taken me there. I would think, ‘Just once, it doesn’t mean anything.’ A-And then remember how I could feel his cock pulsing deep in my throat, and how it smelled. It smelled stronger than the piss, I think, and it was just so overwhelming…” The brunet described further, and it surprised Constance.   
It should have been more evident, but hearing D’Artagnan speak again about Rochefort’s genitals this way was only confirmation that seeing was believing. He was consistently well hung and virile beyond imagination; To the point that his testes could swell with active sperm before their eyes as he grew further enticed with D’Artagnan as his personal cocksleeve.   
Her expression was plain on her face, and in her olive green two eyes. But still, on the bench in her father’s garden she held the gascon’s hand and licked her lips on the edge of her seat as he continued.   
“I-It’s like, after a while I think I started to like it because it reminds me of masturbating. I was so conflicted, I still am… Like, it starts the cycle.” D’Artagnan elaborated for her. “I was just really filled with disgust and anxiety around the piss, I wasn’t intentionally becoming unclean. M-My bladder shrunk, Constance. Please, understand. I don’t want to disgust you, I cannot bear the thought.” His smile faded and his fingers curled inwards to greet his palm.  
All in all, it was a well-needed and positive conversation between the two of them as they came to grips with the new state of their relationship. There was nothing to be afraid of, after all, for D’Artagnan.   
But, some parts of him remained conflicted. It wasn’t that deep, but he still thought about what this means, and what in turn his relationship with Rochefort meant, too.  
‘When I am with Constance, I feel upset with him for having replaced her as my fantasy. I feel that she should be upset, too. Although, I undoubtedly love him as well. How I felt being held by him, to be his…There is nothing else I would rather take part in, and it was so good to have Constance there watching us. So, then, now that everything is out in the open… I shouldn’t be upset with Rochefort? I should abandon one of my attitudes towards him? It doesn’t make sense, even though everyone else is content…’ It lingered in him, but ultimately him and Constance had moved past that given conversation and onto their date as planned.  
When he had kissed her goodnight, and he re-donned his hat set askew with a feather as he made his way back to his apartment, more analysis came back into his pitiful mind. His stomach, after being with the older man had swollen to massive proportions while accepting his seed. And just as eagerly, it had diminished like it could not get enough of the older man’s sperm and broke it down for nutrients with haste. Yes, his body was subsisting and deriving nourishment from the older man’s semen. It sank into him deviously, and he shuddered. It was a completely ordinary act, just to simply digest food for the body. But, knowing it was what churned so loudly in Rochefort’s testes serving as a meal substitute for himself; This thought excited D’Artagnan greatly.   
And now, two mornings after his date with the fair blonde, he had developed a new fixation. All lines of thought trailed back to the older man’s cum, you could practically see apparitions of hearts above the young brunet’s head and stars in his eyes as he thought of the fluid. White, thick, burning hot inside of him. The younger man would worship it alongside his piss if he could.   
His infatuation with Rochefort transformed, a new phase brought to light with the realization brought into his head as he walked home from his date with Constance.   
He had abandoned his daily chores for now; ‘Just a moment! Just one daydream, and I will get back to it’, he had said, and instead on the stoop of his apartment building with his fantasy of him, trying mundane and ridiculous ministrations to satiate his lewd thoughts.  
Still it was before dawn, the sky dark blue and few around to greet. Because the air was so cool, and because he vowed cleanliness of home for the time being, the gascon sat outside in some form of effort to resist temptation.  
But the fact remained, that he was smitten with the dark haired, deep voiced Rochefort who kept his Van Dyke well pointed and to see him without gloves garnered arousal from the younger male who dreamt of him now, sighing and holding himself and wishing to be held by the older man he was learning to accept his love for.   
‘I should focus on being more balanced, right? Something bad should happen surely if I just stay in my head the whole time… I did come outside for chores right?’ D’Artagnan’s inner voice was clear, and newly invigorated him to resume.   
Spryly, he bounded up and made his way around the corner.   
However, the sight upon turning dashed his hopes for any productivity today.   
Rochefort, swordless, in his richly colored saffron doublet was in his path. The two of them collided, and the older man had put up his hands in order to stop the blow.   
Whatever, clearly that had both desired to be together again. Therefore this encounter was somewhat of a blessing to them both.   
Excited as ever, D’Artagnan as he bounced on his heel and held his fists fast to his side, practically shouted for him. “Good morning, Monsieur!”   
He presently was rubbing the dust from his doublet, but turned to look at the shorter, and younger man anyway prior to being complete with his action.   
“And good morning to you, too. Monsieur D’Artagnan.” For a split second, his smile was there.  
He sighed before continuing. “Your energy always delights me, young man.” The pointed ends of his moustache accentuated his affectionate smile once it resumed.  
The brunet beamed, obviously. “Monsieur, I am always glad to see you!” His hands slapped against his thighs in an excited gesture. “You are looking elegant as ever.” D’Artagnan let out a cute giggle.  
“Why, that is such a lovely thing for you to say. Then, I should say; You are as kind as ever, D’Artagnan.” He huffed. “What were you doing this morning, anyways?”  
It was now that they both had decided, with D’Artagnan retracting his steps to do so, to re-enter the younger man’s apartment while they conversed.   
“Well, I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I had just needed to get some air. But, I am so excited to see you again.” The brunet’s voice was laden with love as he spoke.   
“I suppose the same could be said for me.” The older man replied, and it sent D’Artagnan’s heart fluttering out of his chest to know that the mature Rochefort whom he enjoyed so much and in such intense ways was indeed reciprocating his affections.  
The two of them had passed through the brunet’s doorway and into the now clean room. By any stretch it did not smell nice, you could hardly find something in their time which did, but nonetheless it lacked the stinking of urine and cock which it had in excess just days before.  
And still, it was lousy and with minimal furniture.   
D’Artagnan made it a point to close the door behind the older man, and bowed to him which only emphasized their height difference in his mind as he came up from the gesture.   
Instantly, they fell back into their affectionate ways and Rochefort gathered up the younger man in his arms, swinging him around playfully until he gingerly let him down on his own mattress while himself remained standing. Whilst they twirled, they laughed and sighed and breathed in the scents of each other as their respective hair flew around them.  
“D’Artagnan.” He spoke quietly and in his usual low tone. “There were a few things I couldn’t stop thinking of, about you. I needed to see you again, is all I should say.” The smile never left his face, this felt like such a new development for the young gascon to see. Finally, he was coming around to enjoying him this way; Seemingly they both understood that they wanted each other more.  
As the brown-skinned boy collected himself on the mattress in order to find a comfortable posture, Rochefort decided to sit next to him and proceed with whatever idea he had hinted at.   
“May I?” The older man had asked, but his possessive actions did not imply that his hunger for the younger man held the same patience as his rhetoric. His ungloved hands grasped at the brunet’s boot.  
D’Artagnan only had one pair of shoes, his riding boots. They were of bulky leather, and lacked the fashionable features that seemed common among Parisians. The toes on them were round, and underneath the ankle strap was missing it’s padded butterfly patch of leather which was currently all the rage. All the more humorous was that he was indeed not getting much riding done as upon reaching Paris from Gascony, he had sold his pony and yet his boots remained.  
The brunet gasped softly, unsure of what the older man was going to do. Still, he would like to see how his thoughts played out despite his first instinct upon feeling his grip to be pulling his foot away.  
His boots slid off easily. Rochefort smiled to himself contentedly. His eyes were locked on the younger man’s feet, his gaze loving among longing.  
It was unlike Rochefort to like feet this way, he never gave it much thought and it never seemed to be a favorite. But, the genuine and sweet nature of D’Artagnan had made him curious. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to try. Just because it was not a favorite, it didn’t mean that he was unable to explore the thought. Finally, it could be a rather intimate experience - What better way to the give back to the boy who had given up his virginity to him?  
“I just wanted to try this for you.” He had to speak again, because it was so new and different for him there was some tension in his mind.  
Earlier, he had masturbated to something along these lines. In the hotel he was currently in, he slid both hands up his bulging shaft to the mental image of this boy’s feet until he climaxed messily. To himself during the act, the older man giggled and felt a little like a pervert to be thinking of exposing the gascon to such ideas; Likely he would be confused and aroused all the same just as with his pissing on him. Or, this was just one of the thoughts which swam through the hazy and horny mind of the older man. Like the others, upon waking up after the fact Rochefort still found himself toying with the idea, and decided that he must see D’Artagnan about this.  
He was right, this was the matching response from Rochefort’s fantasy.   
“What?” D’Artagnan’s voice was not fearful, but it was blunt and confused all the same. His brown hair fell disheveled around his face as he looked to the older man who now fondled his feet as he sat on the edge of his bed. Why was this exciting? He had started to unbutton his doublet partially but halfway through the action he had realized that he likely no longer needed it if he wanted it to remain clean as it is now.  
It was not openly erotic, but it was suggestive in such a cute and playful way; It suggested all of the right things about the younger man to Rochefort. This image as he looked to D’Artagnan now had reminded him of a small snapshot as if he had caught him getting undressed for the day. His hose stretched over his feet, his toes, his ankles and his powerful calves before disappearing up the legs of his breeches.   
If you looked, you could see that at certain parts the fabric of his white hose was indeed sheer and this had made it all the more enticing to Rochefort; whose dark eyes remained transfixed on him.  
And from D’Artagnan, you could see his toes nervously curl when he started his massage.  
His thumbs pressed and glided up and down his soles. It felt good, but he still didn’t understand. This was no the same feeling as, well, anything else he had liked to do with him.  
Obviously, Rochefort seemed to have gotten too caught up in his small experiment. His content humming to himself the brunet could hear, and without a second thought he had already begun removing his hose.  
The dark haired man’s hands massaged D’Artagnan’s lower legs in their entirety before doing so, they slid up his muscular lower limbs one last time in an effort to savor the feeling and coolness of his skin from behind the smooth fabric of his hose before sliding them off hastily.   
Instantaneously, his hands had returned to massage the younger man’s feet. His fingers all pressed and rubbed his toes before he moved his soles once more.   
Rochefort had moved his face closer to them, giving his toes small and genuine kisses. His dick throbbed and hardened in his pants, engaging in that familiar bulge the young gascon had loved to imagine so vividly.  
Seeing this, something had started to click inside of D’Artagnan once more. He removed his doublet, and now remained in only his shift and breeches as he watched the older man massaging his feet. His hands grasped at his sheets, and his dick starting to twitch to life once more.  
This did feel really good, and the way Rochefort was enjoying himself, enjoying his body, it was so gentle and felt so affectionate. He let out his own humming sigh to himself, and his own thought on his recent fixation formed in his mind like a ball of dough.  
‘If Monsieur Rochefort had felt open enough to explain what he wanted to try… Maybe I can try to tell him the thoughts I’ve been having about his semen. I mean, he is so experienced. Who knows what he would be able to cook up once I tell him? It would be everything I want! Everything I crave…’ Deliciously, these thoughts swirled in his mind.   
Now, Rochefort was licking his feet, sucking his toes and felt himself caught up in a swell of romance. Audibly, he gasped and suckled and he could not help it; He loved every bit of D’Artagnan including his feet which felt so soft and cute in his hands.  
The lewd faction of his mind took control, and he started to angle the younger man’s foot to his cock. His lips released the tan boy’s toes wetly and they curled in shock from the new experience. Both of them gasped erotically.  
This confirmed the thoughts that the brunet had; That if there ever was an appropriate time to request something further, that would be now.  
“M-Monsieur!” D’Artagnan could feel Rochefort’s pulsing hard cock throbbing through his breeches as his foot was pressed to it, forced to pleasure it.   
Immediately, Rochefort’s deep voice let out another groaning moan from the feeling of D’Artagnan’s cute foot wrapped at least partially around his dick as it erected more and searched for anything to further it along as it started to leak precum and twitch excitedly. He opened his eyes and blew back a lock of blackish hair that had fallen into his vision, before turning to look to the younger man.  
His free foot was angled inwards, his toes shyly curled on both of them. His hands mimicked largely the same expression except for they grasped at his shift which lied over his heaving chest. This brought his attention to the brunet’s face, which was blushing and obviously signalled arousal; The eyes on him were dark and clear and looked to him anticipatingly. Further, both of his legs were drawn upwards, his free leg moreso, and this gave Rochefort a good vantage to see the small lump of erection which lie in his breeches. The tip of his dick pointed upward and stiffly bobbed with the various motions of D'Artagnan's body; You could hardly see any bulge from his testes, however, they were indeed consistently small enough that you could cup them singlehandedly, anyway.  
Rochefort’s dick twitched visibly and aggressively through his breeches at the sight, it made D’Artagnan breathe a little deeper as he could see it as it erected further and threatened to tear the fabric of his breeches.   
The younger brunet felt like there should be something he should be doing more, but this was so new. He moved his foot more along the concealed bulge of the older man, it elicited a fat glob of precum to well up from him and soak through the fabric of Rochefort’s garment.  
Surprised, it only encouraged Rochefort more and he wished to bring both to slide along the length of his erecting penis so large it could not support itself. For this small gesture and stroke of his dick with his soft feet, he must be praised for it.   
“Young man, you are becoming so polite. I must say, Monsieur you are a pleasure…” His voice had trailed off by the end of his statement, the arousal took him once more after he had absentmindedly pursued his previous thought of incorporating both of D’Artagnan’s lovely feet wrapped around his dick.   
On the other end of him, the brunet’s face felt hot and his eyes still half lidded as he started to stroke the older man’s dick like this after some encouragement. The strong and pale hands from the older man began the motions and he only followed vigorously.  
“Why, I think that you are finally accepting your role as my personal bitch.” He just had to say it, but he still shook from the hazy arousal and between moans among other exclamations.  
The husky gasps from the dark haired man as his hair flew from the force of his motions felt like they elicited the precum to start to drip from the tan boy’s penis as well.   
Persistently, the older man continued his rhetoric.  
“You know all the ins and outs of pleasing me, Monsieur D’Artagnan… Is it second nature yet to you, young man?. How polite, you know that I like that in a man.” Seeing that the aroused tan boy in front of him would not move his feet from their current occupation, the older man set to freeing his monster cock from his breeches.  
Undoing the buttons, the sleek column of flesh sprang further upwards and bobbed violently. The veins prominent and visibly twitching with excitement. Not one to turn away from what he has been craving for weeks, D’Artagnan only fixated now on the sight of the naked cock in front of him. Following closely were the two meaty slaps of the older man’s swelling testes against his thigh as he retrieved his sac from his breeches as well.  
The heat of it on the soles of his feet as he slid them up and down the lengthening dick, Rochefort’s words, not to mention the grotesque churning gurgles of his cum as it sloshed audibly with the white hot fluid he wanted, it was enough to fluster the younger man. Through his brown hair like dark flax he ran a hand and his chest heaved with an especially loud aroused sigh.  
“Do you remember when you thought you were straight? Monsieur, is it clear now that your place has always been here, at the service of a man? Well, I have always had easily thrice the manhood you have so I suppose you could hardly change a thing if you tried.” Degrading words, more and more they spilled from the dark haired Rochefort as he had gone back to gently holding D’Artagnan’s feet and massaging his ankles as he continued to slide the soles of his feet along the older man’s dick.  
He didn’t want to step out of the polite silhouette which he had established all himself just minutes ago, yet the gascon felt like he should say something.   
“Why, I could easily be the dominant one if I was given the chance!” He cried waveringly, but it was a definite confidence laden in the brunet’s tone. Simply, this was another genuine landmark of the young man’s personality; Foolish and hot-headed.  
In a complete pause, the older man dropped his actions and withdrew. This had lead to D’Artagnan wondering if he had said something wrong.  
“Go right ahead.” He began to stand up, and as he did so he pulled his breeches down completely, casting them aside on the brunet’s clean apartment floor.  
It was hard to look away as he did this, his balls swung and sloshed noisily as they swelled with sperm between his hairy thighs, and his cock continued to pulse angrily as it swayed and remained hard and was thick like his own calf. Basically, the size of his manhood was intimidating and beyond arousing, it was all that the younger man desired in this moment and he was unwilling to tear his sight away from his next meal of the older man’s cum.  
It felt like a long time to snap from his erotic, hazy vision before he could react accordingly. “Fine, I will.” D’Artagnan huffed and easily pulled off his breeches before scooting over for Rochefort.  
The mattress and frame creaked with the taller man taking his spot on it. Now, he was unsure of where to start.  
Rochefort clasped his hands together in front of him, unwilling to touch his dick for now even as it dribbled consistent and messily thick droplets of pre from his engorged and massive tip as it twitched.   
The air smelled heavily of his musky seed apparent on his enormous dick and balls.The topic now arose to the brunet after the familiar lewd smell wafted to him once more. He thought to himself that it would likely be bothersome if he was any bigger or more virile - It seemed that the smell of his cock would be very obvious and constant if this were true.  
‘That’s not what I need right now. I did say I could be dominant, right? I should prove it to Rochefort.’ The brunet thought to himself and swallowed nervously without getting another thought to it and instead looked to Rochefort’s waiting ass.  
He said nothing, but still lay in waiting for the gascon with his hands clasped together. His dick swung heavily off of the younger man’s nattress in front of him. Rochefort didn’t want to make him nervous, so he did not look back at the other male.  
Rochefort’s ass was white and petite, His whole form was masculine and tapered from his broad shoulders to his narrow, powerful hips which had previously thrusted into him with such fury.  
D’Artagnan bit his lip and felt his face remain hot and flushed in seeing this. He clenched his fists playfully, as he admired the masculine form of the older man splayed just for him on his mattress.  
Now was as good a time as ever, and yet he had forgotten all which he had wanted to do in order to pin the role as subservient on the older man who had humiliated him so previously. Instead, D’Artagnan collected saliva from himself, and ran it along the tip of his own twitching dick as lube. It would have to do.   
On his shift he wiped first the back of his hand and then the front of his hand. The brunet then moved his hands to rest on Rochefort’s hips. He could hear Rochefort hum pleasantly from the gesture, and before pressing his hips into him in order to fuck him, D’Artagnan snuck a peak at the older man’s massive leaking cock once more. Just in time, the veiny column of flesh spurted a huge glob excitedly.  
D’Artagnan shut his eyes hard and started to work his spectacularly average member into the older man’s ass. Parting his cheeks and guiding into his hole easily, the powerful muscles gripped and pushed against his excited cockmeat in such a way that it forced the gascon’s eyes open once more with a gasp.  
It felt so good! It felt like it was only natural, it almost made him feel like the dark haired man’s ass was pulling him in deeper. This sensation that the brunet felt in this instance was so thoroughly pleasant that it obscured disappointment in the fact that this would be his first time fucking anything at all other than his own hand, he should have felt this prior to his infatuation.  
D’Artagnan’s testes felt hot and throbbed, could he be close to orgasm already? With his eyes half lidded and mouth open as he gasped, the composure in his character was clearly fleeting.  
“Do you really think it compares? Because I can’t feel anything.” Rochefort turned his head only partially to the brunet with his throbbing cock inside of him as he spoke.   
Sinking in his chest, those words were degrading; but it made his dick all the more harder and the tan boy was already unable to reply in his aroused stupor.  
Instead, the younger man tried to fuck him harder, gripping his hips against his own and driving what was left of his cheeks into the older man’s tight hole. The commotion of his action sent Rochefort’s cock swinging wildly, and forced his own testes against him and completely smothered his own sac.  
The comparison he felt between them was unnecessary. Emasculated as always, it drove him wild even though it was such a small detail - the feeling of the older man’s much larger balls against his own versus the tight hole he was currently grinding his cock into.  
Because he had said he lacked the stimulation from him despite the younger man being balls deep inside, D’Artagnan’s hand moved from his hip to his cock to try to jerk him off.  
It was hopeless to try to encircle it, so he instead just gripped the hard flesh as he could. Upon contact, he could feel the burning hot skin throb faster. It felt like it took over 30 seconds to slide his hand up from the base of his cock to the end of what he could reach, for he couldn’t reach the tripping tip of the older man. D’Artagnan narrowed his eyes, feeling himself drooling with lust over him and continued stroking him and grinding his hips against him while he fucked the silent Rochefort.  
Around his own sac, against both of their thighs, he could feel the swelling scrotum of Rochefort vie for more and more room as the fleshy orbs swelled greedily. The younger man liked to imagine that he could almost feel the sperm swimming around inside of his testes, forcing them to twitch as they bloated around his own sac.  
“Monsieur, it seems you are still more focused on my cock than you are on fucking my ass.” His deep voice brought him to the surface a second time from his erotic reverie.  
It was true and they both knew it. He was close, anyway and the last few thrusts of the tan boy’s hips sufficed.  
His dick throbbed weakly inside of Rochefort and continued to spill his seed into his hole. Whining, gasping, the gascon felt himself soften and he blinked the blurriness from his eyes after the fact.  
Smirking, Rochefort tucked a stray piece of hair from his vision as he watched his beloved D’Artagnan furiously continue to jerk off his massive cock. Every moment counted, he loved to see those dexterous brown fingers try as they could to make the huge amount spill forth all for him.  
In his moment, he had felt so enamored and lucky to meet someone who held the same values and same tastes as him as this brunet was.  
At last, he let loose and the volume of the fluid forced his cock to swell visibly with the size. It shot forcefully against the opposite wall and pooled with a grotesque noise.  
His chest was heaving, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his free hand. Against him, the younger man hugged and caressed him; before pulling out of him for good.  
“Monsieur, I liked that. I just wanted to tease you.” Still gasping, but he said with a small laugh. "But I am always right, you know."  
“Mhm…” The gascon spoke as he started to get up. If he wanted to stay on top of his new resolution to not become dirty any further, he had better clean that up. Although, he did feel notable disappointment pitting in his stomach as he came to the thought that he would be unable to save and consume the semen Rochefort had left just now.  
With a nod and flourish of his every so slightly wavy, blackish hair, Rochefort vowed to aid him. They kissed when they bumped against one another, and made affectionate comments and sweeping caresses until Rochefort had to leave after explaining he has a work meeting to attend to.  
Now, the younger man was left with not much else to do rather than resume his day and hope of meeting him once again. At least he now had proof to himself that this was no fluke, he was undoubtedly at the service exclusively to the older man's genitals.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, let me know what you would like to see  
> any feedback is wonderful, please let me know  
> thanks


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